


Dreams

by acrononymous



Series: Mr. Jones [1]
Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Foreplay, I'm Sorry, Making Out, NO DEATHS, Romance, Slight Suspense, Slow Burn, WHOOPSIDOODLE, completed work, maybe an assassin on the loose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25685026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrononymous/pseuds/acrononymous
Summary: Charles Jones thinks he can control himself around his assistant. Could he be proven wrong?Little does he know that someone is watching, and waiting to strike.
Relationships: Charles Jones/Sam Young (Let's Play)
Series: Mr. Jones [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862548
Comments: 20
Kudos: 97





	1. Everything is FINE

**Author's Note:**

> Characters and everything are from the webcomic Let's Play by Mongie. I don't own anything. This series takes place before chapter 118 in the comic.

He floated there in the space between dreams, arms wrapped around her waist. He planted a chaste kiss on her shoulder, smiling as a flower bloomed at the spot he claimed. He continued his languorous conquest of her back, delighting in each new bud that bloomed. He felt her warmth envelope him like the sun breeching the clouds on a hazy day. She turned, planting a dark glance his way. A gentle blush bloomed across her cheeks as she smiled, just for him. She reached around to cup his face and drew closer to his lips. She licked his bottom lip and bit it softly. She parted his lips with her tongue and deepened the kiss. Charles caressed the back of her head and trailed his hand down her neck, lower and lower. He traced her clavicle and planted a soft kiss on her lips, trailing his fingers ever lower to the tops of her chest, grinning as he teased the tops of her breasts, circling the ample mounds and relishing in the moans that escaped her. He teased her nipple with a flick of his finger and kissed her once more. Samara cupped his cheek and bit his earlobe lightly, dragging her tongue along the edge. She paused midway and whispered, “Time to wake up, Mr. Jones.”

Charles felt his grasp of reality envelope him gently, like water lapping against him as he floated. He stretched languidly, reveling in the memories of his dreams. He couldn’t help himself that she was there. The hum of cars on the highway, peppered with horns and the occasional booming bass finally brought him to reality. He opened his eyes.

Charles tousled his hair and ran a hand over his face. At first, he was troubled by her appearance in his dreams. Now, he relished it. It was his secret solace that kept his darkness at bay. These dreams were far more agreeable to his nightmares. Although he could not control his dreams, he was certain that he could control his actions around his assistant. That would be enough. Surely, it will.

Charles let out a sigh and commenced his morning ritual. He showered, dressed in the clothes he put out the night before, and quickly tamed his hair. He smiled as he grabbed his cologne, reminded of Samara’s sweet compliment a few weeks earlier. He tightened his tie and grimaced. _Enough, Charles. Back to reality. She is off limits, and you’d prefer not to get deported, or murdered this week._ He sighed once more, and made final adjustments to his outfit in the mirror. Today he chose a dark blue suit with a lavender handkerchief for his chest pocket, and a red tie. He secured his old wedding band in his pocket, and headed for the office.

************************************************

“Good morning, Lucy. Any messages for me?” Charles peered over his phone at the ginger receptionist. Her cheerfulness was great for customers and office morale but was too much for him before his first cup of coffee.

“Top o’ the morning to you, Charles! No messages yet, but Sam is waiting for you in your office.” She smirked at him and waggled her eyebrows.

“Lucy, it is far too early for _waggling_. Take care before your eyebrows float off into the ether.” Charles grinned at her. “Thank you for the update. I’ll check on things shortly.” He turned on his heel and marched to his office, ignoring the fluttering he felt in his chest _. Oh fy nuw, what am I? A teenager? Get it together, Jones._

“Good morning, Miss Young.” Charles glanced at her as he entered. He couldn’t help but smile at her progress. “I have to say, your office attire has been improving greatly. Today’s selection is especially appealing.” Her cheeks bloomed a deep red, and she looked at him through her lashes. “Thank you, Charles. Good morning, and, um, your suit is … very nice.” She looked away with a pained expression. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thank you. Now, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

She sat up a little straighter and shuffled the papers on her lap. “I’ve updated the client’s database with files from the cloud, double checked for any inconsistencies, and emailed progress reports to the client’s assistant. I noticed that we are a bit behind on schedule with programming the code for the client’s software this week. Would you mind if I assisted them today, to get back on schedule?” She tucked an errant strand of her chestnut hair behind her ear and bit her lip. Charles’ appraising stare held her for a moment. He was immensely proud of her progress. She had not stuttered a single time when discussing work. It was only when attention was given to her, that she falters. So, it was his mission to get her used to compliments, and attention. “Very good work, Miss Young. Permission granted, though you cannot escape me just yet. Are you ready for today’s exercise?” He watched her nibble on her nail a bit and wrap her arms around her herself for reassurance. She looked at him again through her lashes and sighed. “ _Oh, cheese and crackers.”_ Charles huffed out a laugh. “Is that another charming American phrase, or are you simply hungry, Miss Young?” He went around his desk to assume his usual leaning position and waited for her to respond.

“Charles!” Sam leapt to her feet and turned crimson. “You’ve been in America for a few years. Surely you’ve picked up on our breakfast habits, by now. Y-you weren’t meant to hear that, anyway. What are you, the Welsh Clark Kent? Jeepers, I can’t get anything past you.” Sam said under her breath and assumed the power position. Charles beamed at her. “Ah, I see my secret has been revealed. Though, I must thank you for letting me refrain from using my X-ray vision. Your… credentials are not as hidden as they once were, especially in that dress.” Charles grinned and raised an eyebrow at her. He was rewarded with her signature doe eyed expression and shy smile. He felt a warmth bloom in his chest every time he saw that look.

Samara looked away and slouched, wrapping her arms around herself once more. “Um, t-thanks, I think. Though, I don’t believe you about that x-ray vision. You see far too much. I am on to you, Mr. Jones.” She smirked at him and tucked her bangs behind her ear. “Ok, let’s get this over with. Um, let’s see.” She straightened her back and placed her hands on her hips.

Charles felt his cheeks redden as his eyes glanced at the plunging neckline of her maroon wrap dress. It was still demure, but left room for the imagination. He couldn’t help but remember his dream this morning and the things he still wanted to do to her. He blushed and looked away momentarily. He smoothed his hair and smiled at her and waited for the self-love exercise to continue.

“I love that I … um…” Samara licked her bottom lip and took a deep breath. Charles’ felt his pulse quicken. He adjusted his tie. “Take your time, Miss Young.” She took another heaving breath and stared him down. “I love that I can listen and support my friends when needed, and without judgement.” She smiled triumphantly at him. He beamed back at her and lowered his gaze. “Well done, Miss Young. Now, run along to rescue the programming team. Keep me abreast of their progress.” Charles gulped. _A Freudian slip? Hopefully she didn’t notice._ Charles was careful to keep his gaze at eye level, no matter the temptation before him. “O-ok. Have a good day, Charles.” Samara turned and scurried away. Charles couldn’t help but watch the sway of her receding hips. He tucked his hands into his pockets and thumbed his ring pensively. _Crist, I am not liking this affect she is having over me. I need to get these feelings under control._ _This is fine. I can keep it together. Everything is absolutely FINE._

“Oi! Towhead! That stick finally get stuck up your bum? You look like you are in pain. What’s up?” Umed entered and sat in front of him.

Umed was the only person that could get away with speaking to him that way. Charles had grown fond of him over the years working together. He was also one of the first friends he made in California. He had a way of looking past Charles’ frosty veneer.

“I have no idea what you are on about, Umed. I am perfectly FINE, thank you very much.” Charles adjusted a button on his shirt.

“Mmhmm. You know, you were chuckling an awful lot when Sam was in here… Should I call her back? I wouldn’t want you in one of your stormy moods.” Umed’s eyes glistened at his light teasing. Umed’s morning routine wouldn’t be complete without teasing his favorite towhead.

“No, she is on a mission. Leave her be. Now, what can I do for you?” Charles planted an unphased look on his face. “Well, some of the team are getting drinks this Saturday. Do you want to join?” Umed raised an eyebrow. “Ah, I am not sure I can make it. I will let you know later in the week. Thanks for the invite, Umed.” Charles smoothed his vest and turned to his computer. “Ok. I’ll just let Sam know you won’t make it… We’ll figure out bus routes or a carpool later. Take care, Jones.” Umed stood up. “Oh, that won’t be necessary. I’ll tell her. And clear my schedule. I’ll be there. Thanks.” Charles smiled at him and smoothed his hair.

“Mmmhmm. Ok. See ya.” Umed smiled knowingly and left. Ah, nothing like an office romance to keep his 9-5 interesting. He shot a conspiratorial look at Lucy and headed to his desk. Just another day at the office.


	2. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Jones is distracted. He is not fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slightly non-canon, and happen before the events of episodes 118-121. I wrote it because I thought it would be funny to see Charles squirm. (Italics are meant to be the character’s thoughts. This chapter jumps back and forth from Sam’s perspective, to Charles’)  
> **“O fy duw, mae’n ddrwg gen i! = “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

********* Chapter 2 ***********

The hum of the engine as the car idled was the only distraction from the mire of his thoughts. Charles and Sam were on their way to a meeting with a client across town. He shifted the car into neutral, leaned back and let out a sigh.

Sam peered at him over her glasses. To her, he seemed far less poised as usual. She had never noticed Charles brood so openly before, and she had to admit that it was stirring something deep within her. After the incident with the shirt, and yet again after she inspected his bruises, Sam felt a flutter in her stomach when she thought of him. At first, her thoughts were innocent. Lately, however, all she wanted to do was touch him. She yearned to feel him, to expose all of his secret desires and relish her. She wanted him to teach her all the different ways her body could feel pleasure. Sam quelled the urge to reach over and tousle his hair. He really needs to relax.

“C-Charles? Are you ok?” Charles’ eyes fixed her with a glacial stare. Sam shrunk in her seat. _His eyes look… predatory._ She looked away and crossed her legs, ignoring the strange dampness she felt … down below. “Are you… angry?”

Charles’ expression softened. “No, Bunty, of course I am not angry. I apologize for my demeanor today. I had a terrible night’s sleep. I tend to get a tad grumpy with sleep deprivation.” He gave her a crooked smile. “And this traffic is not helping.”

Sam blushed at him. “Oh? Noisy neighbors? Or, w-was it… a bad dream?” _What does Charles dream about? Sheep? The Shire? I’ve never been to Wales, but the pictures remind me of the Shire._

Sam noticed a pink bloom on his cheeks. _Was he… blushing? No, of course not. It must be a bit hot in here._

“N-no, it wasn’t exactly a bad dream, Miss Young.” He looked away and straightened his tie. “It was just… distracting.” Charles’ memories flashed to his dream from the night before, and the image of Samara leaning on his desk wearing nothing but his tie.

Charles cleared his throat and looked out the window to hide his traitorous cheeks. _Fool! Get it together! Stop blushing like a lad in school Where is your head today, Jones?._ He smoothed his hair before turning to her and placing an amiable smile on his face. “Enough about me, Miss Young. How are you feeling about today’s meeting?”

Charles noticed a flash of her thigh as she crossed her legs. His mind flashed to his dream, and him sliding his fingers slowly up her thigh as she opened for him. He grabbed her tie and pulled her closer to him as he teased the outside of her pearl with his index finger. He ran his tongue along her jawline, meandering its way to her bottom lip. He worried her lip as his other hand teased her entrance. His tongue parted her lips as his finger inched inside of her. He drank in the moans that escaped her, lapping at her tongue hungrily as he dove another finger inside. He smiled against her mouth as she rode his fingers and leaned back, trailing her fingers around her own nipples. Charles growled hungrily and dove to her breast. He pinched her nipple lightly with his teeth before circling his tongue around her nipple. Samara’s hips picked up speed, moving in a figure eight. She nibbled his ear and whispered: “ _Stop teasing me, Mr. Jones_.” Charles grinned as he stood up and undid his tie. “ _As you wish, Miss Young_.” He threw his tie to the floor and eyed her hungrily.

“…C-Charles? Did you hear me?” Samara’s looked at him with those devastating doe eyes.

“O fy duw, mae’n ddrwg gen i! Oh, I mean, I’m so sorry. I sincerely apologize for my lack of decorum today, Bunty. I-um, I… no. Please, can you repeat what you said?” Charles wiped a bit of sweat off his brow. _Christ, I am sweating. And we’re almost here. Jesus and Mary, Jones! Your job is at stake. Think of something else. Fish and chips, shepherd’s pie, your Mam… the nuns from your Catholic school… puppies. Lambs… oh for fuck’s sake._

He looked at her, determined and in no way distracted. Not at all. A car horn blared from outside and snapped him back to reality.

“Charles! The light’s green!” Samara hid behind her seat belt.

“Ah, right. Sorry, yes…Ok” Charles cleared his throat and drove past the intersection, into the car park. _I will perish. This is the end. I can’t get her out of my mind. I will be deported. My body will be scattered across L.A. I hope my mam forgives me. My life insurance will set her up for a while. She’ll be taken care of. Goodbye world, Charles Jones, signing off…_

He put the car in park and stared at the steering wheel.

“Charles, you are NOT okay. We should get you checked out. Maybe Jay has some time in his schedule today. I’ll ask Lucy to postpone your afternoon schedule, and we can go there after the meeting. Are you r-running a fever? Was it something you ate? What do you eat, anyway? You’re also a bit red. Is it the weather?” M-maybe-“ The words stopped falling out of her mouth. Samara froze as she felt a warmth envelope her hand. She slowly turned her eyes toward him, terrified.

Charles chuckled at her expression. “My darling Bunty, calm yourself. I am not sick. As I said, I was just … distracted. It shall never happen again. I will make sure of it. I just needed a second to collect myself. A cup of tea, and I’ll be right as rain. We still have a few more minutes before the meeting, anyway. I shall grab some in their lobby. Everything is fine, Bunty.” Charles grinned at her. He squeezed her hand lightly before letting it go. Charles smoothed his tie a final time and turned to her.

“Our meeting awaits. Shall we?” Sam nodded at him. Charles bowed his head to her and exited the car. He grabbed his briefcase and opened the door for her.

Sam looked at him through her lashes and grabbed the hand he offered. She swore pencil skirts were a -4 to her dexterity. Sam quirked her brow at him. “Are you sure you’re alright? I am worried about you, Mr. Jones.”

Charles shot her panicked look before recovering. “Ah, I assure you, Miss Young, I am fine. Thank you for your concern, you are really too kind.” He led her to the elevator, grinning at the sweet blush that spread across her face.

As they entered the elevator he glanced at her. “I apologize again for not hearing you earlier. How are you feeling?” Sam stopped chewing her nail and planted a terrified look towards him.

“Charles, you know I am a nervous wreck. But for now I am more concerned for you. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Charles grinned and placed a finger to her creased brows. “Don’t tent your eyebrows, Bunty. Remember, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You can handle this meeting. I have no doubt.” They smiled at each other for a moment, both lost in each other’s gazes. Then the elevator lurched.

The lights flickered and the elevator lurched once more. Charles threw his arms around her and braced her against the wall. His free hand cupped her head and held her to him. “Samara, hold on to me!”

“C-Charles!”

Flick, flick. Fizzzzz. The elevator was plunged into darkness.


	3. Welsh Cakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get steamy in the elevator. Sam gets bold. Charles has an existential crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cannon is off the rails. I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> (Sam’s POV only this time)

*****Chapter 3*****

Title: Welsh Cakes.

++++

Fizzzzz. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

The smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body gave Sam a flutter in her lower abdomen. She shifted her hips, trying to ignore it.

_Wait, am I dead? Is this the afterlife? God, his Welsh tits feel amazing._

Thump,thump.

_No, that’s his heartbeat. We’re alive. Great, now I will die of embarrassment. Hello darkness, my old friend._

“Samara? Are you well?” Charles’ voice purred in her ear. His breath sent shivers down her spine.

_Sweet baby Jesus, take the wheel._

“C-Charles? Yes, I’m o-ok. I think the elevator has stopped moving.” Sam shifted her hips again.

_Wait, is that his phone in his pocket? Jeepers, that model is big._

A husky moan escaped Charles’ throat. Sam felt his finger trail her jaw and perch beneath her chin.

“Miss Young, please stop moving.” Charles’ voice was strained.

_Oh no, not that voice. At least my nose is not bleeding. Maybe… maybe just this once. I refuse to die without kissing someone. Come on, Sam, you can do this! Move!_

“No, Mr. Jones.” Sam grabbed his tie and wrapped an arm around his neck. She pulled him gently to her until his lips found hers. She parted his lips with tongue and gasped as he pushed her to the wall. His tongue was urgent, slamming into her gaping maw like a kraken of the sea. It slipped along the crevices of her mouth, exploring her, teasing soft gasps from her. Her lips were soft and yielding to him, opening slightly, inviting his excavation of her secret vault. A throaty moan escaped Samara as her nails traversed his back. She raked them across the broad planes of him, eagerly drinking in the moans that escaped his lips. Their breaths intertwined as their tongues combated for supremacy.

Samara’s breath caught in her throat as she felt an icy finger plunge down her neckline. He nipped at her bottom lip before continuing his exploration. Samara gingerly trailed her fingers down to the small of his back, finally finding her courage in the darkness. Her tongue crashed into his as her other hand grabbed a handful of his Welsh cakes. Charles gasped and pulled her off the wall, leading her to the door of the elevator. His hand trailed a path to waist, holding it firmly as he cradled her head and continued his conquest of her lips.

Sam hand crashed against the elevator walls. The icy metal sent a shock-wave to her senses. Her hands fumbled in the darkness seeking respite in the corner. Her fingers pushed against some buttons on their way to grab the handle at the side of the elevator.

Click, click. Buzzzzzzzzzzz. The droning of static broke through the speakers.

“Hello? You guys ok in there? The maintenance crew is on their way to service that elevator. Hello? Can you hear me?” A tin sounding voice broke their reverie. Both were unwillingly shot back to their senses.

“Oh fy nuw! Yes, uh…” Charles cleared his throat and released Samara.

“Yes we hear you.” Charles let out an exasperated sigh, hopeful that Samara did not hear it in the darkness.

“Great! They should be there momentarily. Also, the CFO sends his apologies and wanted to reschedule the meeting for next week. His assistant will be calling you shortly to hash out the details. Wait a moment and I’ll try to turn on the lights.” The tinny voice was replaced with static.

Flick, flick, ping! The fluorescent lights appeared once more in the elevator.

Charles stared at Samara, horrified. His cheeks were inflamed in crimson. He let out a breath and gently rested his forehead to hers. He basked in the warmth of her aura, captivated by her. He closed his eyes and broke the spell. He turned away from her and began adjusting his attire.

BANG!

“Pumpkin?!?! Are you there? Are you alright?” Charles shook his head as Samuel Young’s voice invaded their senses.

BANG,BANG!

“Jesus! Just a moment sir, the doors are almost open. If you can step back, please.” The maintenance worker said in his best attempt at a customer service voice.

BANG!  
“Pumpkin! Hold on! HHHNNNGGGG” The sound of straining metal sent another shock-wave to Samara. She hastily fixed her hair and straightened her sweater. She glanced at Charles and gasped. He was facing the other wall and was steadying his breathing.

“Charles! Charles are you alright?” Sam asked him in earnest.

_Oh god, Charles.exe has stopped working. I broke him. I grabbed his Welsh cakes, and now I will be fired. What is wrong with me? Maker have mercy, what got into me?_

BANG! Sam’s father finally burst through the door.

“MY PEACHY PUMPKIN POO ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” Samuel Young grabbed his daughter and threw her over her shoulder.

“Dad! I’m fine! Put me down!” Sam reached for Charles as her father stomped out of the elevator.

“Charles! Answer me! Are you ok?” Sam implored.

Charles looked at her meekly and sighed. “Yes, Miss Young. I am just… having an existential crisis. Give me a moment to collect myself. Hello, Mr. Young.” Charles glanced at her father tiredly.

“Jones! I’m taking her to the clinic. Her lips are blue, and she feels feverish. Take care of things with the CFO, and I’ll see you at the office later!” Charles looked at Sam with a pained expression before donning on his usual mask. He smiled at the maintenance man and apologized for the CEO of Young Technologies before he exited the elevator.

Sam watched helplessly as her father dragged her away.


	4. A Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papa Young lets go. Charles finally loses control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ach, i uffern ag ef"= Ach, To hell with it!

++++Chapter 4++++

She stared out the window with her arms wrapped around herself. She let the dull gray and brick façade of the city lull her mind into complacency. The bus whined to a halt. Sam closed her eyes and listened to the familiar din of her fellow commuters chatting about their day. The murmuring of voices was interrupted with the staccato of coins rattling down the fare collection box and the soft tinging of bus passes being swiped. Sam felt comforted by the routine of it all, and truth be told, she looked forward the ritual of being a passenger, a silent observer in life. In the past few months, Sam started using her voice to actively shape her little corner of the world, and the sudden influx of new experiences upended her equilibrium. She felt the bus shift beneath her as it drove on, leaving a hissing plume of smoke in its wake. She opened her eyes languidly and glanced out the window, resuming her commuting meditation. The memories of the past morning gnawed at the back of her mind, inching its way past the haziness of the mundane. Sam sighed as she let the memories float back to her.

*******

“Samuel Young Senior, put me down.” Sam’s eyes sent daggers towards her father. The ferocity of her demeanor was so alien to him that it stopped him in his tracks. His countenance paled as he braced himself for her onslaught.

“Dad, put me down. I am perfectly fine, I promise. Really, you must get yourself together. Mom isn’t here to look after you, and you still have a business to run. Do you really think storming in here and causing a scene is the best course of action?” Sam softened her eyes and brushed a stray crumb from his beard. Samuel Young smiled crookedly at his daughter and leaned down to place her safely on the pavement. He let out breath and smoothed down an errant strand of her hair. “Sorry, Pumpkin. I…” He paused and sniffed.

“Dad, come on, are your feelings leaking already?” Sam let out an exasperated breath and grabbed a tissue from her bag. Samuel Young’s chin quivered as he felt pride swelling in his chest. He let out a sob before crushing his daughter in a hug. Sam rolled her eyes and deadpanned the omnipresent smog over L.A. She gently pushed her father away. 

“Dad, I can take the bus back home, if you are really worried. I’ll be fine. But, you've really got to realize that I am a grown woman. I pay taxes, gosh darnit! I have been for years. You've got to let me go. Please dad.” Sam’s doe-eyed expression rendered Samuel defenseless. “Ok, pumpkin. I'll give you space. Please, rest for today and I’ll see you back at the office tomorrow.” Samuel Young gazed at the young woman getting on the bus. A tear welled in his eye as he remembered his little daughter going off on the school bus. She was right. He had to let her go.

*****

Miles away, a familiar pair of glacial eyes bore a hole into the blanket of haze covering the City of Dreams. Charles Jones thumbed his wedding band idly as his eyes searched the horizon for a distraction. She was there, tucked among the clouds. The sun that peaked from behind the lacy edges of a cloud stained the entire horizon a bright shade of crimson. Charles smiled to himself, reminded of the lovely shades of red that bloomed across his dear one’s face. Even awake, he cannot escape her.

Tick, tick, tick. The seconds fell away, each sound tightening a noose around his neck. Charles rubbed at his wedding band a final time before placing it on his desk. He creased his brow in concentration trying to fight for control over himself. Tick, tick, tick. “Ach, I uffern ag ef!” He loosened his tie and grabbed his phone. He inhaled a breath before pressing dial.

“Charles? H-hello?” Charles gasped softly.

“Samara… I called to make sure you were alright. I was… worried about you after you left with your father.”

“I’m fine, how are you? I was… a-also worried about you. About the elevator…” 

“… Miss young, I must apologize for my abhorrent behavior. It was ungentlemanly and unbecoming of me, I…” he took a shaky breath over the phone. “I forgot myself for a moment. It won’t happen again.”

A trickle of laughter flowed through Charles’ phone receiver, clear and sweet as the tinkling of bells. He felt a warmth bloom within his chest.

“Charles, you aren’t a Victorian Maiden. Relax, will you? I was the one that kissed you. Or have you forgotten already?” A pause stretched between them.

“Miss Young, I will remember that kiss for a very long time.” Charles cleared his throat before continuing. “Regardless, I think we should discuss this in person. We'll resume business as usual in the office tomorrow. However, I'd love to see you again... outside the constraints of the office. Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?” Charles heard a soft gasp.

“Samara?” Silence, slow and painful stretched through the line. “T-tonight. I’d like t-to see you tonight.” A blush bloomed across Charles’ face as a smile stretched across his lips, both an unstoppable release of the Welshman’s feelings. “As you wish, Miss Young. I will pick you up at 8.”

“See you then, Charles.” Click.

He sat back in his chair with a giddy grin spread across his face. He couldn’t control it. He closed his eyes and chuckled to himself. He turned to face the setting sun once more and closed his eyes. He let the crimson rays wash over him, finally freeing the chains that bound him for so long.


	5. One is the Loneliest Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Marshal appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love on this silly fic of mine. Part one concludes next chapter!  
> 

+++++Chapter 5+++++

Summary: A wild Marshal appears.

Charles took the stairs two at a time. He paused outside of Samara’s door to do a final check on his attire, and the bundle of roses in his hand.

Knock, knock. Silence. Charles shuffled his feet, anxiety gnawing at him from behind. He checked his watch. It was exactly eight o’clock. He creased his brow with worry and tipped an ear to the door. Silence. He brought a hand to smooth over his maroon sweater, aiming to soothe the nerves that writhed in his chest. He glanced at the hallway, sure to find some clue to Samara’s whereabouts. Nothing but silence breached the air around him. Whispers of doubt crept towards him, slivering their way through his chest.

Was this her response? He was right all along. He was not good enough for her. It was best to chain his polluted heart away from others. It was what kept the darkness at bay for so long. He was used to the icy torment of solitude that resided in his chest. In truth, Charles learned to love the chains that bound his heart. They kept his emotions in control. Life was far more bearable with his feelings locked away behind an icy veneer.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. No. Not Samara. She was too honest with him, with the world. No. This is a misunderstanding and nothing more. It’s is fine. He would never ask more of her than what she would be willing to give. He owed her an audience to say what she was feeling. Nothing more. Charles let the roses in his hand droop. “Ach, Charles, you are such a fool,” he said under his breath. He leaned against the door and began his wait.

*****meanwhile, downstairs*****

“ONE IS THE LONLIEST NUMBER THAT YOU’LL EVER DOOOOO~” Marshal croaked into the night. Sam grimaced under his shoulder.

“Marshal! I’m late. Could you please shuffle a little faster?” Sam nudged him in the ribs.

“Ow! Sorry, Sammmm. Whew! You look NICE. Is that for your fancy guy at work? Hmm? You know the-AH! Stairs! Ok, legs, letsssdothis.” A tiny piece of Marshal’s tongue snuck out in concentration.

“Yes, thank you, Marshal. Can you keep it down? They are going to call the cops and make a noise complaint.” Sam grabbed the railing of the stairs, her face stained red with exertion. Why was her neighbor so heavy?

“TWOOOO CAN BE AS BAD AS ONE!” Marshal belted out. “Sam, I’m doing my best karaoke here. Gosh, I should drink MORE OFTEN!” Marshal suddenly went silent and pointed at the top of the staircase. “OH, Sam, Sam, look! Ooh, Sam, a SNACK is waiting at the top of the stairs.” Marshal teased. He nudged his neighbor’s shoulder. “Ow, Marshal! What are you talking about? I’m late, and I’ve had a crazy day, and I don’t have time for your gosh dang riddles!” Sam huffed and resumed her climb of the stairs.

Sam gasped at the relief of pressure and looked up to meet a familiar pair of glacial eyes. “Charles, I’m so sorry. I really, really apologize!” She paused and bit her lip. She quirked her brow at the chuckle that escaped the Welshman.

“Samara, no apology necessary. I am just glad you are… safe.” Charles side eyed Marshal and shook his head. “I should have known that you were coming to someone’s aid. I am sorry I doubted you, Bunty.” Warmth overflowed in him as he looked at her. He cleared his throat and hoisted Marshal into his arms. “I can take it from here, Bunty.” Charles smiled crookedly at her, willfully ignoring the writhing, drunken mess in his arms. 

“Oooh, my prince! I’ve always wanted to be carried like this.” Marshal batted at Charles’ chest and fluttered his eyelashes. “Ok, Charles. I consent. Have your way with me, you dirty Brit.” Charles tented his brows and sighed. Charles began his climb.

“Benjamin’s a light weight, I see.” Charles said, shooting a glance at Samara.

“Excuse you! Rude. I am a beefcake, thanks very much!” Marshal pouted.

Sam chuckled and responded, “Maybe, Marshal. But another beer and you would have passed out.” She tented her brows and looked at Charles. “I found him in the laundry room downstairs. He was going on about how much he missed his kitten.” Charles quirked his eyebrow in response. “Ah, his girlfriend. I think they broke up? Or… I am not sure. But I’ve never seen him like this.” Charles nodded and stopped outside Marshal’s door. Samara opened it and went inside.

“Ok, lad. Here you are.” Charles said through clenched teeth as he placed Marshal on the bed. Marshal shot a pleading look towards Sam and reached for her hand. “Sam, thanks for the rescue. I… don’t…” He sniffed. “I just miss her, ya know?” He drew circles on her knuckles as his eyes grazed the floor. Sam gently pushed him backwards and drew the covers over him. “I know, Marshal. I’m next door if you need me, ok? Try to get some sleep.” She smiled at him gently and removed her hand. Marshal smiled back and rolled to his side.

Sam gasped at a slight pressure she felt on the small of her back. Charles gently turned her towards the door. She darted her eyes at him and wrapped a hand around his waist. Their eyes held each other for a moment before they both looked away, turning their heads to hide the smile that bloomed across their lips. They exited the apartment with arms wrapped around each other, contented in the promise of what’s to come.


	6. More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samara wants more. Will Charles oblige?

+++++Chapter 6+++++

Summary: Samara wants more. Will Charles oblige?

The balmy L.A air smothered them. Between that, and the fiery flush they felt on their cheeks, the two associates of Young Technologies felt as though they were trapped inside Mount Doom. Sam’s eyes skirted the floor, looking for some dropped weapon to slay the nerves that writhed in her chest. Charles’ eyes brushed the ceiling, looking for some semblance of decorum.

A laugh escaped Charles with a huff. He looked towards the staircase and bit his lip, valiantly trying to contain the bubbles of laughter that rose in his chest. His efforts were futile. Laughter bellowed from his lungs as tears escaped his eyes. He laughed. He let go of all the emotion he kept neatly bound inside. He laughed until his lungs ached. He was so enraptured with his deliverance of delight that he failed to see that he was being observed by his favorite pair of doe eyes.

Truth be told, Samara first looked at him in horror. She wasn’t sure if he was having another stroke, like he did in the car this morning. Nor was she sure that Charles manifested some latent sixth sense, and was laughing at the antics of poltergeists that only his eyes can see. Then she couldn’t help the giggles that rose in her chest. She covered her mouth with both hands, trying desperately not to add to the insanity. But she couldn’t help it. His laughter was contagious. So, they both laughed and finally let go.

“Heh, oh fy nuw, I don’t think I’ve laughed like that for… months.” Charles wiped his eye and glanced at his Bunty. “No, more than that, probably.” Charles smiled at her tenderly.

“Well, you made Marshall’s night. He tries to hide it, but we all know Marshall Law is a pretty princess deep down inside. Thanks again for the assist.” Sam glanced at him over her glasses.

“Yes, heh, not a problem, Bunty. Either way, I shall enjoy teasing him about it later. Every lad needs a good dressing down after a drunken night.” Charles said as he toyed with his sleeve.

“You say that now, Charles. You’d better be prepared to have him leap into your arms every time he sees you. You are his prince, after all.” Sam’s eyes skirted the ground, pausing at a bundle of roses leaning against her door.

“Ah, my apologies, Bunty. I just…ah” Charles smiled shyly as he handed the roses to her. “These are for you. I… hoped they would display my intention towards this meeting. I… Samara, this morning, I…wait, are you crying?” Charles gaped at her. Sam sniffed. “No! It’s, um, my dumb feelings are leaking out. S-sorry.” Sam wiped her tears with a sleeve and pouted, endearing herself to him even more. “Ah, my mistake, Miss Young. Please, take your time.” He tented his brows and waited for her to continue.

“You brought me flowers.” She sniffed. “I assaulted you with my mouth, and then you brought me flowers. Ch-Charles are you even real?” He chuckled in response. “Oh, Bunty. If you only knew how you’ve assailed my every moment.” Ever so slowly, his hands stretched towards her, desperate to breach the gap between them. Silence mingled with the balmy night air, heavy with the trepidation of unspoken desires. With bated breath she froze. To her, a single exhale would be enough to break the spell, this waking dream that she was living. Surely, this day wasn’t real, surely, he couldn’t want her. She clamped her eyes shut. The stillness of the moment, his cologne, the warmth in his eyes, it was all too much. Her anxiety threatened to immolate her.

Sam felt a feather-light warmth trail across her forehead to her temple, ever so gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Her eyes flit open and brushed against his. A slow smile swept across his lips as his gaze enraptured her. “My darling Bunty, how you’ve haunted me. At night, in the solace of my dreams you visit me. Thoughts of you permeate the drudgery of my day.” Charles crinkled his brow and dropped his eyes to the floor. He gasped as a slight finger perched under his chin, lifting his gaze to her once more. “Hold still, Mr. Jones.”

Stricken with sudden bravery, Sam dropped the flowers and wrapped an arm around his neck, gently pulling him closer. Charles rested a hand on the small of her back, the other to her waist as he stilled, trepidation freezing him in place. Samara’s lips traced his temple, brushing past his hair and grazed his ear. “I want you, Mr. Jones.” Her breath sent sparks down his spine. Still, he was unable to move. She grabbed his hand and looked at him with hooded eyes as she opened the door to her apartment.

Inspired by her lascivious research, her unbridled lust overtook her. She nibbled on his earlobe as her hand pushed against his chest, closing the door behind her. A wicked grin spread across her face as she eyed her prey. He paled in response. She pressed herself against him, slowly grinding her hips against his. Charles hissed out a breath and finally moved to action. His fingers fluttered against her neck, brushing her hair out of the way before he leaned in and placed a kiss on her. Samara arched her neck backwards and grinded against him. She grabbed his chin and brought his lips crashing into hers. She greedily drank in the moan that escaped him, crashing her tongue in to the cavern of his mouth. Charles brought a hand to cradle her head, the other grabbing the small of her waist. He groaned softly, pushing himself off the door. Encircled in his arms, he led her towards the couch, all the while laying conquest to her serpentine tongue. She writhed against him, softly gasping at the burgeoning need blooming in her lower abdomen. She balled her fist into his shirt, her other hand knotted in his hair. She inhaled sharply as she felt him lifting her. She wrapped her legs around him as his hands securely wound across her bottom. He kneaded the round flesh as another guttural groan escaped him. Her hands dragged across the planes of his back as she bit his bottom lip. She dragged her tongue across the peaks of his lip before slipping past his teeth and gliding against his tongue.

CRASH. Sam’s eyes flashed open. A throaty moan escaped her as Charles dragged his tongue across her jaw bone, slowly making’s its way to her throat. She looked at the scattered cutlery that fell to the floor, her mind briefly wandering to the whereabouts of her dog. Her lustful haze outweighed her curiosity as she felt Charles gently placing a kiss on her neck. She moaned and knotted her hands in his hair, yanking his head back. His eyes flashed at her, both predators calculating their next move.

Charles’ eyes darted to her kitchen counter, then to the bedroom door. No, not yet, he thought. He glanced at the couch and started moving. Charles’s hand moved to her thigh and gently squeezed. His lips crashed into hers. Samara moaned and broke the kiss. He gaped at her. She looked at him through hooded eyes that burned a deep shade of chestnut. Her lips parted as she caught her breath. “More.” She said simply as her mouth attacked him once more. “Mmrf!” Helpless, the Welshman conceded defeat, allowing her mouth to traverse him at her leisure. First, she made her conquest in the caverns of his mouth, writhing around its inhabitant and claiming it as hers. Then she slowly meandered across his jaw, her kisses laying waste to the stubble that resided there. Charles gasped for air and continued his quest to the couch. Next, she trailed her tongue along the lobe of his ear before nipping it playfully.

“Mmmiss Young, please.” He breathed and placed a kiss on her shoulder. His conquest of her was slow. Experience has tamed his onslaught. He knew there would be time for further exploration, and he relished the thought of exploring her at his leisure. He let out a breath and gently placed her on the couch. He stood in front of her, chest heaving in and out desperate for air. She paused, concern pushing past her lust. She sat upright.

“Charles? What’s wrong?”

“Ah, nothing, Miss Young.” He smoothed his hair and sat next to her. He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, resting his forehead on hers. He laughed airily before continuing. “I wonder where you learned such tactics for negotiation.” His finger brushed against her bottom lip, lightly tracing its outline. “Please indulge the old-fashioned gentleman inside of me. Let’s slow down a bit, shall we?” He implored gingerly. Sam sighed as her hand trailed down his chest and she slowly grinded against his bulge. Charles hissed out a breath. “Are you sure that is what you want?” She licked her lips as she felt a familiar dampness spread from deep within her. “You aren’t fooling me, Charles. I know you want it as much as I do.” She gently pulled his hands from her back to her waist. She eyed him wickedly as she moved his hand to the base of her breast. She moaned, pressing her chest against his hand and grinded against his bulge once more.

“Fuck!” He breathed as he wrapped a hand around her wrist to stop her. “Samara, please. I don’t want to do anything that you will regret later.” He shifted his hips and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Today has been… a lot.” He softened his gaze and tented his brow. “Please, Bunty. I…” He took in a breath. “You’ve brought warmth into my life again. I don’t want to ruin you with my callousness.” He pleaded with her, eyes gaping with fear.

Samara dropped her gaze and bit her lip. She brought a hand up to cup his face, the other tentatively reached for his hand. Ever the gentleman, Charles obliged, dwarfing her hands in his own. Sam smiled to herself and flipped his hands over, delicately tracing the lines in his palms. “Bunty? What is it?” Charles asked gently. Sam breathed out a laugh and shook her head. She kept her eyes on his hands as she spoke. “You know, we almost died today. Well, I thought we were going to die. That is what gave me the courage the finally kiss you.” Her eyes flashed towards him for a moment before resting on his palm once more. “Charles, you’ve been in my dreams, too. I know I am inexperienced, but I can’t help that. You’ve always treated me like an adult, pushing me to improve myself. Helping me love parts of myself.” She rested her hands in his and looked at him squarely. “Clearly, we want each other. Clearly, we have feelings for each other. So, what’s stopping you?” She cupped his face once more. “Charles… I know you have a past. I wasn’t a part of it. But, if you’d have me, I’d like to be a part of your future. Even for a little bit.” She smiled warmly at him. “also… I think you can teach me a bit more… outside of the office.”

“Fuck me sideways.” Charles said in a breath. Sam chuckled. “I would gladly oblige, Mr. Jones. If only you'd let me.” She thumped his chest playfully. “Gah, Bunty. Please be gentle with me.” Charles grasped her hands. “I know how… physical relationships can make things. I can do that, but I like to keep that part separate from my feelings. You see, I am rather fond of compartmentalizing things in my life.” He shrugged and darted his eyes to the floor. “Ah, you see, Miss Young…” He said softly. “I wish to treat you differently. I’ve grown fond of you in these past few weeks that we’ve worked together.” He looked at her shyly. “I’d like to see where this goes between us. Slowly, naturally. If, well that is, if you’d like to…” He took a breath and a blush crept across his face. “Would you like to go out with me?” Samara kissed him softly and rested her head against his. “Alright, Mr. Jones. But I will take that chastity belt off of you. Mark my words.” Charles chuckled. He wrapped his arms around her as she laid her head against his chest. “All in due time, my darling Bunty. All in due time.”

He stroked her back. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle suddenly. He was being watched. His eyes flashed open, searching the living room for the onlooker. He let out a breath as he saw a bewildered canine side-eying him. Bowser tilted his head and let out a whine. Bowser jumped on the couch and squeezed in between them. Charles smiled at the pair on his lap. He leaned back, contentedly basking in the warmth that blossomed between them. His heart was filled, just for a moment.

Little did they know that he was being watched. Across the street a pair of binoculars were being put down, and notes scribbled on a pad. They were being hunted.

*****End of part 1*****


End file.
